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“What? No.” Greg’s laugh is empty. “Phoebe, c’mon. He loves his school, he—”
“Yeah, he loves his school. But this is his home, and he misses it.”
“No.” Greg’s firm tone once intimidated me to the point I’d back down, but I’m not the same woman I was then, and I’m not going to let him bully me or my son into anything now.
“We have to do what’s best for our son and put our own emotions aside.” I maintain a calm tone, but I actually just want to scream at him.
“You’re the one with strange men at your house, Phoebe. How is that best for our son?”
Chance has made several remarks about women and his dad, but I’m not going to comment on that. It wouldn’t do any good and would just stir the pot.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Greg. I just wanted to let you know what Chance said today.”
“I guess you were too busy all day to let me know how my son was.”
“I had some home repair issues come up, not that it’s any of your business. And he has a phone. You can call him.”
Greg remains silent, and I take that as his acceptance that I’m right. He doesn’t have to communicate with our son through me, and he knows it.
“I’ll be in touch,” Greg says shortly before the line goes dead.
My heavy sigh fills the otherwise empty room, and I’m thankful the call is at least over with. Who knows what will happen next, but that’s one thing marked off the agenda.
* * *
Frank called me early this morning and asked me to come in to open the café, as he’s got a migraine. I hurried to get ready and dragged Chance out of bed. He didn’t give me any trouble and promised to make good on his agreement to keep the floor swept and the tables wiped all day. I did let him bring his phone and his Switch for any downtime. He’s old enough to stay home alone, but with the running away and everything being up in the air with his dad, I’d rather keep him close by for now anyway.
While I clean the glass of the front doors, the aroma of coffee brewing fills the room, and I glance over and watch my son as he wipes down tables.
The moment we came in, he started helping, asking for directions if he wasn’t sure what needed to be done, and my heart burst with happiness at him just being here with me.
“Want some coffee?” I offer as I make my way behind the counter again.
“Am I old enough now?” he teases, climbing onto one of the stools at the counter.
“Yeah, a cup won’t hurt.” My words are echoes of Aunt Libby’s when I sat here years ago, pregnant and miserable. I love that we kept this place in the family. “You know, I was sitting where you were sitting a few hours before you were born.”
He’s heard the story a million times but still smiles at me. “And Aunt Libby said a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.”
I pour Chance a cup of the lightest roast we have, and as he starts to sip it, I’m shocked he didn’t ask for cream or sugar.
“You don’t want—”
But he sips it again, unfazed, and I chuckle. “I guess you’re a black-coffee kind of guy, then.”
“It’s kind of terrible.” He winces, the facade falling, and I burst out laughing.
“Here, have some sugar and cream.” I pass him the sugar packets and reach under the counter into the minifridge for the half-and-half. “Doctor it up some, so it won’t be as bitter.”
I check my watch. “Oh, let me unlock the doors. It’s time to open.”
There are a few regulars who come in around opening time, but none have arrived yet. After the doors are unlocked, I open the blinds of the windows on either side of the door, letting the early sunshine in. It’s just now really rising, but there’s still a little light.
Before I’ve made it back to the counter, the door opens, the bell jingling as someone crosses the threshold, and I turn to greet our first customer of the day with a smile. “Hey, there. Welcome to the Second Chance Café.”
The woman is perfect—there’s no other word for it. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek bun, and she’s dressed in a pristine pantsuit. “Hello. I’m looking for Phoebe Abbott.”
“That’s me,” I reply, noting the envelope tucked under her arm. She offers me her hand and I shake it, letting go as quickly as I can because I can feel the coffee grounds on my palm and don’t want to get her hands dirty.
